Renegade
by CorduroyKoala
Summary: Jaune Arc's life is about to come to an end. After two years on the run, he finally faces the gallows, and Pyrrha Nikos is the one who put him there. Two-shot BountyHunter!Pyrrha AU
1. Part 1

Jaune Arc. Sole survivor of the Slaughter of Aegis. Champion of the Vytal Tournament. Head of the Royal Guard. Trusted advisor to the King himself. Youngest person in history to commit regicide.

Pyrrha Nikos narrowed her eyes, standing in one of the two observation boxes as a guest of the Queen. She had spent nearly the entirety of the last two years hunting this man across every corner of Remnant. She hadn't done it for revenge or out of some sense of duty—Vale wasn't even her home kingdom, after all—but for the money. The bounty on Arc's head had been one befitting the murderer of a king, sizable enough that Pyrrha could retire comfortably if she so desired. Over the course of those two years, she had made it a point to learn as much as she could about the man. As it turned out, she had nearly faced him once during the Vytal Tournament—back before his act of treason—but fate had apparently had other plans.

Now, here he was, being escorted to the gallows by the very men he once commanded. Despite the restraints on his wrists and the jeering crowd surrounding him, Arc was incredibly calm, eyes moving from face to face. Pyrrha silently wondered just how many knew him, how many of these people calling for his death had met him before he'd betrayed their trust and assassinated their king. Eventually, his eyes locked with hers, blue staring into green. He didn't break stride, but gave a small, respectful nod before continuing to scan the faces around him.

Pyrrha didn't normally stick around to find out what happened to her bounties. Like most in her profession, she tended to dehumanize her targets: a necessary evil to help her sleep at night, especially for the morally ambiguous jobs. This was a special case, however. Regardless of the Queen's requests, she had decided she wanted to see this one play out. She'd had long jobs before, but none had ever eluded her for as long as Arc had. He'd burned through—sometimes literally—over a dozen safe houses in the two years before she caught him. Most targets never made it a month.

The redhead's own eyes began to drift through the crowd. A vast majority of the people seemed to be ordinary citizens, yelling curses and shaking their fists at the former knight, but there were those who were just standing around, probably just looking for a show. A blur of motion caught her eye and she snapped to it. A familiar blonde-haired woman bounced up and down, waving her arm to catch Pyrrha's attention. Her lilac-eyes lit up when she saw the redhead looking her way and she grinned, throwing out a double thumbs-up. Pyrrha gave her a small smile and a nod. Yang Xiao Long was a good friend and an excellent hunter in her own regard, though the two of them didn't work nearly well enough together to warrant a partnership.

Pyrrha turned her eyes back to Arc as he made his way up steps to the platform. He was still looking around the courtyard and, as his eyes settled on the other observation box, he smiled and gave a small, hand-cuffed wave. The hunter followed the gesture and, based on the grimace on the white-haired woman's face, assumed it had been directed toward Weiss Schnee. Frankly, even if Arc had killed the king, Pyrrha was a little surprised that his execution had warranted an appearance from the head of the Schnee Company herself. Arc's behavior, however, didn't shock her at all; he'd always fancied himself a lady-killer, even though it had never seemed to pan out for him.

The crowd began to quiet as the man's boots thudded across the stage, somehow demanding respect in spite of his infamy. Due to the nature of the execution, all sound on the platform was amplified, enough so that Pyrrha could clearly make out Arc's words to his executioner. "Cardin Winchester. It would be you." He then seemed to sigh, as if the reality of what was about to happen just caught up to him, and positioned himself under the noose. "Well, let's get this over with."

As the executioner looped the rope around the man's neck, he asked, "Any last words, traitor?"

Arc thought for a moment as Winchester moved to his own position. He stared off into the distance and projected his voice. "Let your aim be true, 'cause if you miss, I'm going to be pissed off."

A small wave of nervous laughter moved through the crowd. The executioner faltered for a moment, hand on the lever. "You do realize you're being hung and not shot, right?"

The blond tilted his head toward the man as best he could with the noose around his neck. "When you're the one being executed, _you_ can say whatever you want." The remark garnered further laughter from the spectators, and even Pyrrha couldn't suppress a small smile. She quickly put it aside as one of the guards on the platform raised his arm into the air. Arc closed his eyes and winced in anticipation of what was to come.

The guard's arm swung down and, an instant later, the floor dropped out beneath Arc's feet. The crowd cheered as the rope grew taut, but soon fell into a stunned silence as it seemed to snap and the man disappeared beneath the gallows. It wasn't until his hands popped back up from the hole and the cuffs shattered that the onlookers began to panic.

Pyrrha had Miló drawn before the Queen's guards could even begin escorting the woman away. The crowd had been too loud for the bounty hunter to be certain about the first shot, but she had definitely heard the second one, faint as it was. _Sniper._ This was planned. Arc hadn't been talking to _Winchester_ about missing; he'd been talking to his accomplice. Whoever it was had to be a highly skilled marksman.

Arc leapt back up onto the gallows and was immediately forced to fend off his former escorts, as well as his would-be executioner. The bounty hunter pulled her rifle to her shoulder, but she knew she didn't have a clear shot. If she hit anyone other than Arc—even superficially—she'd likely be next on the gallows. Not that her intervention would have changed anything, as Arc swiftly and brutally took down those attempting to subdue him with his bare hands and a stolen sword.

As the last man fell, clutching at his leg, Arc turned his gaze toward Pyrrha. Their eyes locked through the redhead's crosshair, causing her to hesitate. Maybe it was the preconceptions that came with him having killed the king, or maybe it had to do with the fact that she had hunted him for two years and turned him in to be executed but, either way, Pyrrha had expected his look to carry the cold anger of a man who wanted revenge or even the overly-cocky pride of one who had cheated death. What she got instead was a challenging stare, daring her to shoot.

She did.

Arc's stolen sword flashed in front of him, deflecting the bullet down into the dirt. The man narrowed his eyes, the edge of his mouth twisting ever so slightly into the ghost of a smile. Pyrrha didn't let it faze her and fired again, but the man ducked, rolling off the gallows to land smoothly on his feet. Most of the crowd was still in the courtyard, sticking at gates as they attempted to flee and inadvertently preventing additional guards from entering. Only one person was heading away from the gate, however: Yang.

 _Don't do it, Yang,_ Pyrrha silently urged. The woman was a good fighter, but Arc was better and, unlike her, armed. Unfortunately, Yang was probably too focused on the idea of a potential reward to consider her odds. As the blonde began to engage the man, Pyrrha slung Miló back over her shoulder and looked for the fastest way down. Following her planned route, she left through the back of the box and swung around the corner to come out onto the wall. Vaulting over the edge, she grabbed hold of the banner hanging beneath the box to slow her descent.

Still several feet from the ground, Pyrrha released the banner, dropping into a roll to break her fall. By the time she got to her feet, Arc had been "driven back" to the gallows. He was easily avoiding Yang's punches and kicks, occasionally batting her arms aside with the flat of his sword. Yang apparently thought she was winning the fight as she grinned, but things turned in the blink of an eye as Arc ducked beneath one of her arms. Before Pyrrha could cover half the distance between them, the former guardsman slammed Yang's head against the corner of the platform, knocking her out cold.

Pulling Akoúo̱ from her back, Pyrrha flung the shield at Arc, drawing her other weapon in the same motion. Knowing better than to try deflecting the projectile, the blond ducked, giving the bounty hunter a perfect opportunity to come down on him with Miló in its sword form. Steel ground against steel as Arc recovered just enough from his vulnerable position to bring his own sword between them. Breaking off, the redhead spun around to bring her weapon clashing back against his as he stood. The man casually twisted his blade, flicking Miló to the side.

Continuing to match her attacks, Arc slowly backed away from Pyrrha, edging closer and closer to the stairs leading up to the gallows. The bounty hunter knew better than to let him control the fight and adjusted her positioning to push him back into the intersection between the steps and the platform. That was when she saw where Arc had been moving: Akoúo̱, embedded in the wooden stairs. It seemed as if shifting herself had indeed been the right choice.

Apparently acknowledging that the fight hadn't gone the way he'd planned, Arc stopped moving, allowing Pyrrha to get within an arm's reach of him. The two matched each other strike for strike, their swords clashing and grinding against each other in a flurry of motion. Pyrrha became so engrossed in the skirmish that she was caught completely off-guard when Arc dodged one of her swings and pulled Akoúo̱ out of the stairs.

The flat of the bronze shield struck the bounty hunter from the side, knocking her into the steps and stunning her. As she struggled back to feet, Arc dropped the shield and ran past her, toward the still fleeing crowd. There was a scream, and Pyrrha looked up to see the man grab a small brunette woman. _Hostage. Does he think he'll get through—_ The redhead was surprised when Arc turned and began running _away_ from the crowd, dragging the woman behind him. _Where is he going? The only thing out that way is the cliff… He wouldn't._ Shaking her head to clear the last of the fog, Pyrrha grabbed up Akoúo̱ and ran after the man.

As Pyrrha had thought, Arc had run up right to the edge of the cliff. Holding his hostage out between himself and the bounty hunter, he looked down over the edge. The redhead shifted Miló back to a rifle and pointed it at the pair. "Let her go, Arc!"

The brunette between the two was close to tears. "Please, help me!" Pyrrha just nodded at her, keeping her sights trained on Arc.

The killer looked up at Pyrrha. "You know, I'm not sure if I should be flattered that you respect me enough to call me by my last name, or insulted that you don't think we know each other well enough to call me by my first."

Pyrrha slowly began to circle, hoping to line up a better shot. "I'm not playing your games."

"Please, he's going to kill me!" the woman screamed, tears now falling freely down her face.

Arc scoffed. "I'm not going to kill you. If I did, I'd lose my only bargaining chip."

"Let her go!" Pyrrha barked again.

Arc was unphased. Holding the woman at arm's length, with the tip of his blade pressed against her back, he cocked his head while still looking at Pyrrha. "You know, this whole thing reminds me of Eldenbridge." The bounty hunter narrowed her eyes in confusion; she hadn't even seen Arc until Orres, and the only time he'd taken a hostage was at Arassin. "I hate to admit it," he continued, "but at that point I honestly thought that you were supposed to actually _burn_ a safe house. After that, it was more of a joke than anything."

Pyrrha took a step forward, ignoring the question of how an experienced man such as him could be so naïve. "You won't get away, no matter how much you talk."

"I suppose not," Arc said, almost sadly. "I guess you're just going to have to shoot me, then?" he asked, surprisingly calm. "Well, come on then, do it!"

Pyrrha's finger tightened on her trigger, but she stopped herself from pulling it all the way. This was too easy. The cliff, his positioning, the talking. He was setting up for something. _What are you playing at?_

Arc's face turned dark at her hesitance. "What are you waiting for? Do it!" The bounty hunter kept her sights on the man's heart, but found herself genuinely unable to pull the trigger. "SHOOT ME!"

 _ **CRACK**_

Pyrrha jumped at the sudden gunshot. Pulling her head away from her rifle, she looked up at Arc. The man's eyes were fixed on the left side of his chest and the blood that was rapidly spreading from a bullet hole through it. He took a stumbling step backward toward the cliff, pushing the brunette away from himself before he fell.

The bounty hunter lunged forward, catching the woman before she could hit the ground. The civilian clung to the redhead, now crying tears of gratitude. "Thank you! Thank you s-so much!" Pyrrha carefully pried the woman off her, offering up short acknowledgements to her thanks. As soon as she was free, she looked over the edge, searching for any sign of Arc. It was a long way down to the bottom of the cliffs, but she had spent so much time dealing with the hostage that there was nothing to see. Arc's body was gone beneath the surface of the bay.

Hearing several pairs of feet approaching, Pyrrha turned around to see Yang and several guards running toward her. While two of the guards tended to the woman, the rest of the group looked out over the edge. "I guess that's twice now you've gotten him, Pyr," Yang congratulated, clapping the bounty hunter on the shoulder. "Guess this time's a little more permanent though."

Pyrrha shook her head. "I didn't—"

"Thank you again," the brunette woman interrupted, being supported by the two guards. "If you hadn't shot him, I would be dead."

The redhead stared dumbly as the former hostage was led away. She _hadn't_ shot Arc… had she? There was really only one way to be sure. Pulling the magazine from Miló, she counted the bullets. _Only two missing. If I didn't shoot him, who did? His sniper? No, the gunshot was far too loud and close._

"Hey, Pyr. You alright?"

Pyrrha snapped out of her thoughts as Yang shook her lightly. "Oh, uh, yes. I'm fine."

The blonde gave her a wide smile. "You better be, 'cause the first round's on you!" It took a moment for Pyrrha to realize just what her friend meant, and she shook her head with a small smile. Of course, Yang would take any excuse to get drunk, and if she didn't have to pay, all the better.

She made to follow after the blonde, but one of the guards stopped her. "I'm sorry ma'am, but Commander Adel is going to want to debrief you."

Yang made a sound of disappointment, but Pyrrha nodded. "Of course. Lead the way." As the bounty hunter followed the uniformed woman, she returned her thoughts to the incident just minutes before. Something about it wasn't sitting right with her no matter how many times she replayed it in her head. Arc _had_ to have known what he was doing.

He always did.

* * *

 **So, I got the idea for this story quite a while ago, listening to the song "Renegade" by Styx, but I only started writing it a few months ago (yes, it has taken me that long to get around to finishing it). Initially, I had planned it to be a one-shot focusing on Jaune's perspective of being taken to the gallows with little reference to other characters at all, but things started spiralling out once I dug deeper into the world and I ended up with what I have now. This part essentially serves as a set-up for the second half, which is where most of the world-building is. Expect to see that next week. Until then, au revoir!**


	2. Part 2

**Man, you guys really caught me off-guard. I figured this story was going to get more attention than my OC-centric ones, but my phone blew up with notification emails last week. You guys are awesome, and I hope this second half lives up to your expectations. Enjoy!**

Pyrrha stared into her whiskey, slowly swirling it around the glass. The bounty hunter wasn't typically one to turn to alcohol to deal with stress—that was more Yang's thing—but, for the last few days, the events at Arc's execution had been weighing heavily on her mind. She'd been debriefed by the man's replacement, Commander Adel, who seemed particularly focused on the standoff by the cliff. Pyrrha told her everything she could, including Arc's comment about Eldenbridge and the discrepancy it presented. The woman seemed to gloss over her concerns, however, instead questioning the bounty hunter on the matter of how Arc had been shot. Officially, as far as the guard was concerned, she had been the one to shoot him, regardless of how many shots she'd actually fired.

Taking a sip, Pyrrha pressed the cool glass against her forehead as the alcohol numbed her throat. It seemed as if the whole organization just wanted to sweep it all under the rug. It made sense that they would want to be able to say that Arc was dead no matter what had happened, but the bounty hunter was having a hard time letting it go. It really shouldn't have mattered to her at all—she'd gotten her money, including a small bonus that had been foisted on her for preventing the man from escaping—but she just couldn't let it go. Perhaps it had to do with closure. She had spent two years chasing the man, after all, so it was understandable to want to know exactly how he'd died.

Come to think of it, for all Pyrrha knew of Arc, there was just as much she didn't know. Why did he kill the King in the first place? From what she'd gathered, the two were practically brothers, the King not much older than Arc himself. How had he survived the Slaughter of Aegis? She knew from experience that he was an exceptional swordsman, but he'd been thirteen at the time, the son of a shopkeeper with supposedly no experience against a small horde of Grimm. Did he have any family? His parents and siblings had been killed at Aegis, of course, but she'd never found out if he had any extended family. Grandparents? Aunts or Uncles? Cousins? A girlfriend?

Pyrrha blinked her eyes against the stray thought. Of course Arc hadn't had a girlfriend; that had been one of the first things she'd found in her investigation. The man had been far too devoted to his job to develop personal relationships, which brought the bounty hunter back to her first question: Why kill the King? She sighed and shook her head; the alcohol had her thinking in circles, questioning things she already knew. She needed to let go of the bounty and move on, figure out what to do with the small fortune she'd acquired. Maybe she should take a vacation.

Putting the glass to her lips, the redhead leaned her head back and downed the rest of the whiskey. As she set it on the bar, the bartender, a wizened old man by the name of Wyllt, approached her. The bounty hunter wasn't quite as regular a customer as Yang was, but she knew the man well enough. "Want me to get you somethin' else, Miss Nikos?" he asked.

Pyrrha smiled and shook her head. "No, thank you, Wyllt. I actually want to close out my tab, if I could."

The man smiled. "Of course." As he took her card, he asked, "Will you be covering Miss Xiao Long's bill as well?"

The redhead chuckled. Money wasn't an issue anymore, and her friend would certainly appreciate it. "Might as well."

Wyllt punched in Yang's bill, and the number on the display suddenly quadrupled, but with a swipe of the bounty hunter's card, it vanished. Returning the piece of plastic to its owner, the man asked, "Got another job lined up, then? Or are you finally letting yourself take a vacation?"

Pyrrha laughed again. "I _was_ just thinking about taking a vacation, actually," she admitted, standing from her stool. "Any suggestions?"

The man thought for a moment as he leaned onto the bar-top. "Glacien's a nice place if you're looking to get away from civilization for a while—the Frozen Waterfalls are quite the sight, let me tell you—though Verity is just as good if you don't want to deal with the cold." He paused, a small smile creeping onto his face. "Then again, I hear Eldenbridge is nice this time of year."

Pyrrha's easy-going mood bled away as she regarded the older man with suspicion. _Why Eldenbridge? Does he know something about what Arc said?_ Slowly, she convinced herself that it was just a coincidence, and added paranoia to the list of the alcohol's effects as the smile returned to her face. "Eldenbridge, huh? I've been there once, though it's been a little while."

Wyllt's smile never faltered. "Couldn't hurt to visit again, hmm?"

Pyrrha gently shook her head. "No, I don't suppose it could. Thanks, Wyllt." The man nodded kindly, and she turned to leave. This was definitely _not_ a coincidence. Whatever was going on, it wasn't going to let her go that easily. _I suppose my vacation can wait just a little bit longer._

(- -)

A warm breeze gently ran its fingers over the bounty hunter's skin, gently tugging at loose strands of red hair as she stood on the cobblestone street. It had taken her over a week to get out to Eldenbridge, and she had been beginning to wonder if she had been wrong after all. Looking up at the charred ruin of Arc's first safe house, however, she knew she had to be right. The rather innocuous building had been far enough removed from the village to avoid being seen, but close enough not to draw undue attention. It had been well over a year since he'd burned it—long enough for it to be torn down and rebuilt—but, for whatever reason, it was still here.

Ignoring the battered and weather-worn caution tape strung up around the building, Pyrrha stepped through the remains of the doorway. The floorboards groaned beneath her feet but, like the rest of the structure, seemed to have held up against the elements. The bounty hunter looked around the first room. Gaps in the walls and ceiling allowed fresh air to enter freely, and the sunlight that filtered in gave the space an oddly peaceful atmosphere. The room had been simply arranged, with a fireplace on one side of the room and a single burned out chair by a charred coffee table on the other.

There wasn't much to indicate that anything had changed since the last time she'd been there—not even graffiti—but Pyrrha still felt the need to check on something. Making her way to the mantle over the fireplace, she gently lifted the scorched picture frame out of the dust and soot. Only a small corner of the original photo remained, but when she flipped it over, Pyrrha could read the partial words written in pen: -ER -ALL. She'd found the picture the first time she'd been here and, though she knew from scraps of documents she'd found at other safe houses that it was a name, she still knew nothing about who it was referring to, or why it was written on the photo in the first place.

"I see you got my message."

Pyrrha whirled around toward the source of the voice, pulling Miló off her back. Standing on the opposite side of the room with his left arm in a sling was none other than Jaune Arc. The man gave her a disapproving look as he stepped soundlessly into the room. "You know, most people don't take their weapons on vacation with them."

"Why are you here?" the bounty hunter growled, keeping her sights on the man as he moved toward the burned out chair.

Arc eased himself down, making sure to keep his left arm in front of him. "No need for the hostility, I just want to talk. Now that I'm technically dead, I don't have to worry about you taking me in for a bounty." He eyed her carefully as she continued to point her rifle at him. "You really should put that away."

Pyrrha stepped closer to the man. "And why would I do that?"

Arc sighed. "Do you know who Ruby Rose is?"

The bounty hunter stopped. Rose was known by many names: The Reaper of Remnant, Slayer of the Beast of Angdroziil, Scourge of the Grimmlands. Tales of her exploits were practically legendary, and even the stories that seemed too outrageous to believe were almost always true. She was as well known for her speed and skills with her scythe as she was for her reclusive nature. Rose was very rarely seen in public, to the point where few people knew what she looked like. Pyrrha was one of those few, though they'd never actually met in person. "I do."

Arc cocked his head to his right, and the woman glanced over only to see a dark corner. There was something off about the shadows, though, and she realized what it was just as they began to move. The sea of black parted as a young woman stepped out. She wore a hooded black cloak that Pyrrha could only assume was Grimm fur, lined on the inside with a deep scarlet. While the hood was pulled down to obscure her face, the bounty hunter could see the silver eyes watching her closely. There was no doubt in the redhead's mind that this was indeed Ruby Rose. Cautiously, she pulled her supporting hand off Miló, holding it up to show she had no ill intent as she brought it back to her shoulder to holster it.

Arc smiled as he resumed talking. "Ruby has been a friend of mine for quite some time now. She's helped me get out of more than a few scrapes, even before I went on the run."

"She was the sniper at your execution," Pyrrha ventured.

The man nodded. "I wouldn't trust anyone else with the shot she had to make," he said, reaching up to gingerly pat the left side of his chest. Out of the corner of her eyes, Pyrrha saw Rose look down as her cheeks flushed with the compliment.

"How did you do it, then?" the bounty hunter asked, turning her attention back to Arc. "If she's the one who shot you, what was the gunshot I heard?"

"Another friend of mine, a Faunus by the name of Velvet Scarlatina," Arc explained, leaning back into his chair. "I believe you met her?"

Pyrrha thought back to the events at the cliff. There had only been one other person present: the hostage. If she had been working with Arc, things began lining up. Armed with a pistol and with Pyrrha's attention focused on the former commander, the woman could have easily fired off the edge of the cliff at the exact moment that Ruby shot her "captor" and then thrown the gun over the edge when he pushed her forward. That in itself had been a distraction, intended to keep the bounty hunter occupied while Arc fell and finished his escape. Aside from the timing required, it was a sound plan and exactly the kind he would come up with. There was just one facet that Pyrrha took exception to. "How did you get a Faunus into the city without her being arrested?" It was common knowledge that the Faunis had been confined to the continent of Menagerie long ago. Not everyone had been happy about it— the Faunus least of all— but it had been the only way to prevent war between the four kingdoms. The laws varied from kingdom to kingdom, but being a Faunus generally led to immediate arrest.

Arc's face quickly turned dark, and he leaned forward. "Are you aware of what the punishment for being a Faunus in Atlas is?" As she typically operated in Mistral and Vale, Pyrrha wasn't familiar with the laws of the northern kingdom. She shook her head. "As I'm sure you're aware, every Faunus has a physical trait that distinguishes them from humans. Take Velvet, for example. She used to have a pair of ears like a rabbit, right on the top of her head." Pyrrha's mouth went dry as she realized where the man was going with his story. "She got caught sneaking into Atlas while looking for her brother, so they cut them off and sent her on her way as if nothing had happened." The bounty hunter maintained her composure, not wanting to let the man get to her. Arc continued regardless, his voice cold. "Apparently, the idea is that if you want to live with humans, you have to _look_ human."

Pyrrha was no stranger to violence, and had seen some decidedly grisly things in her line of work, but this—mutilating people just for being different—was on an entirely different level. It was cruelty for the sake of cruelty and it made her stomach churn. Taking a slow breath, the bounty hunter refocused the subject. "So, what does a dead man want with the woman who killed him?"

Arc's dark mood vanished as he cocked his head with a small smile. "But you _didn't_ kill me."

The redheaded bounty hunter couldn't help but be a little frustrated by the man's obvious taunt. "Except everyone thinks I did, thanks to the two of you." She narrowed her eyes. "Why am I here?"

The former knight's mood changed once again. "I wasn't the one who killed the King," he said, his voice shaking ever so slightly.

Pyrrha had to physically stop herself from scoffing at the claim. "There is a mountain of evidence that says you did, not least of which is your own confession." Deciding to at least give him the benefit of the doubt, she shook her head. "If you _didn't_ kill him, why take the blame?"

Tapping his chin with his good hand, Arc stood and walked past her to the fireplace. "What would _you_ do for Queen and Country?" he asked, bending down to recover the scorched picture frame from where she'd dropped it.

Pyrrha floated away from the man, keeping both him and Rose in her vision. "Not my queen, not my country," she said simply, starting to get annoyed with the run-around the blond was giving her.

"I wasn't talking about Vale," he replied, staring through the photo.

 _If not Vale, then…_ "What does Mistral have to do with this?"

Arc turned to face her, frame resting loosely in his hand. "You asked why I would take the blame for killing my King?" he asked rhetorically, passing the wooden rectangle to his companion, who removed the scrap of paper inside and slipped it into a pouch in her cloak. "I did it to prevent a war between our two Kingdoms."

 _A war?_ If Arc had been trying to stop a war between Vale and Mistral, that meant the King had been _assassinated_ by Mistral. Pyrrha reached to pull Miló from her back. The _click_ of a rifle being cocked followed by the clattering of wood on wood caused her to stop midway. Living up to her reputation, Rose had brandished her sniper rifle, pointing out at the bounty hunter before the picture frame she had been holding even hit the floor. She looked at the redhead, silently pleading her not to force her hand. Pyrrha simply stood still, waiting for Arc to make his play.

Unexpectedly, the man raised his hand toward his companion. "Relax, Ruby. We need her."

 _Need me for what?_ The bounty hunter was getting tired of asking questions and not getting answers, so she didn't bother saying it aloud. After a few somewhat tense moments, the Reaper collapsed her weapon and pulled it back into her cloak. Arc nodded at her, then turned to Pyrrha. Reluctantly, she released her own rifle, letting it drop back down on her back.

The three stood in silence, each apparently waiting for another to say something. Eventually, Arc figured out that it was going to have to be him. "So, yeah, right." He straightened up and addressed Pyrrha. "Mistral wasn't behind the assassination; it was just supposed to _look_ like they were." Walking back across the room, the man eased himself back into the chair. "I intercepted the assassin—a man named Mercury Black—before he could escape and we had a nice conversation. He gave up Mistral as his employer pretty quick— too quick for a man of his skill—so I dug a little deeper."

"You tortured him," Pyrrha said, filling in the blanks.

Arc made a wavering motion with his hand. "Eh, only a little bit." The bounty hunter must not have looked convinced, leading the man to shrug. "Look, let's just say I'd be surprised to see him running a marathon. Besides, it's not like _that's_ the worst thing either of us has done."

The redhead knew she had no room to argue, so she ignored the point altogether. "So, how did you know he wasn't from Mistral?"

"He let it slip that he was working for a woman," Arc answered, leaning back into his chair. "Excluding your queen, there are only three types of people who would benefit from a war between Vale and Mistral: Governments, Schnees, and someone I wouldn't think of."

It was more than likely that the man had been trying to sound impressive with his statement, but even he had to realize how stupid it had actually sounded. "So, you narrowed it down to literally half the population of Remnant?" Pyrrha asked, pinching the bridge of her nose.

There was a small chuckle from Rose while the man floundered. "I... Uh... Well, it sounds stupid when you put it like that, but believe me when I say it was actionable intelligence at the time." He shook his head and leaned forward again in an effort to regain control of the conversion. "The point is, I couldn't let him start a war, so I..." The man hesitated. "I covered it up and took the blame myself." Pyrrha knew the nature of the King's wounds, that he'd been stabbed in the throat and practically decapitated. If "covered up" meant what she thought it meant... "To be fair," Arc continued, "it worked out. A little bit, at least. Between dodging you and otherwise keeping my head low, I managed to rule out two of the options and come up with a name."

"Cinder Fall," the bounty hunter ventured, recalling the name she'd seen crop up across Arc's safe houses.

The man nodded. "I don't know much about her but, from what I do know, she wants to control everything, regardless of who or what stands in her way. She is dangerous and will tear down every single Kingdom if that's what it takes for her to get more power."

Pyrrha considered all the information Arc had offered her. It was absolute insanity of course, but at the same time it made a sort of perverse sense. A war between Vale and Mistral—fueled by Schnee Dust traded to both sides—would be devastating. Grimm attacks would swell, and it was entirely possible that Atlas would involve itself in one way or another. Regardless of who came out the victor, three Kingdoms would be weakened, ripe for the taking and, with Vacuo having little military strength to begin with, there would be little resistance remaining. But for one woman to do it herself? Even if she were to act from the shadows, this "Cinder" would need an army to support her. Maybe she did have one. Maybe that was why Arc hadn't settled this already. "You expect to fight a war with this woman?"

"I do."

"Then why do you need me?"

Arc smiled. "Because you're the best bounty hunter in any of the Kingdoms. If anyone can find her, it's you." The man received a nudge from Rose, and he coughed in embarrassed discomfort. "Plus, you are now incredibly wealthy—in no small part because of me—andIcouldusetheresources," he finished quickly.

Pyrrha rolled her eyes, but stopped midway. He needed her for her skills and her money, the latter of which he had only had because she'd caught him, an act which itself only proved the value of the former. The last two years had been a _test_. In fact, it was entirely possible that the Valean Queen herself was supporting her former Knight Commander and needed a discrete way to fund him. "How long have you been planning this?"

The man thought for a moment, but it was clearly unnecessary. "A little under two years now." He cocked his head invitingly. "So, what do you say? Will you help me stop a madwoman from raining terror down on all our Kingdoms?"

Pyrrha was backed into a corner. If half the things the man said were true, then Remnant was facing dark times. She didn't even know if she could trust him, or if he was playing her to get Cinder exactly what she wanted. "And if I say no?" she asked.

Arc frowned as Rose shifted ever so slightly. "I think we both know what happens," he said quietly. " _Please_ , don't say no." The bounty hunter shook her head. She really did have no other option.

"Okay. I'll do it."

 **And that, for now, is the end of this little story. It's entirely possible that I'll continue—I love this world far too much to let it die—but I don't exactly have the time to do it right now. In the meantime, I suppose I can give a bit of information about the world and where some of my ideas came from, if you're interested in that.**

 **Like I said in the first part, I had originally planned this to focus on Jaune being taken to the gallows by Pyrrha after having committed treason, but I needed a reason for** _ **Jaune**_ **, of all people, to have done something like that. Was it a mistake? Was he trying to stop something terrible from happening? Who would have known about it? Once I had the thought to go full alternate universe and have him kill the King, everything just exploded out into a far bigger world than I had ever planned. The most enjoyable thing for me was figuring out where everyone would be as a result of the changes I made. Ergo, Pyrrha and Yang became bounty hunters, Jaune became the Head of the Royal Guard, and Ruby picked up a scythe and became a monster hunter, just to name a few.**

 **Speaking of changes, there are a few fundamental differences between this Remnant and that of the show. First off, the Grimm are not nearly as big a threat and, as evidenced by Ruby's cloak, don't disintegrate when they die. As a result, humanity has been able to expand more so than in canon, even without the existence of Hunters as an organization. Yep, no Huntsmen or Huntresses—at least, not in the official sense—and no Aura or Semblances, either. The people of Remnant are hardier than we are, of course, but a bullet is still a bullet.**

 **Anyway, these changes effectively come together as the basis for the biggest and most obvious change: the history of Remnant. You can think of this version as a sort of alternate history, one in which the Great War that led to the color-naming convention never happened, the Faunus were successfully confined to Menagerie, and the monarchies stayed in power. There are a number of other changes to the world, such as character political geography and character backstories, but those are not entirely relevant at this point.**

 **I hope you've enjoyed this take on the world of RWBY, and I encourage you to leave a review if you did. You all seem to like it, so I may just pick it up when I have an opening. For now, though, I bid you adieu!**


End file.
